Notes

Dr. Fosters agrees to help Hank, Hope, and Scott, but for a price.

Hank screamed in pure pleasure, his muscled body, soaked in sweat and come, writhing around helplessly on the desk as Bill mercilessly thrust into his tight, toned ass.
With a grin, Bill wrapped his arm around to cover Hank's muscled pectoral and pinched a nipple. Hank, the elder of the two, groaned reluctantly, his eyes rolling into the back of his skull as more pre-come leaked forcefully out of his hard cock.
"Come on," Bill said mockingly, "you want my help, don't you? Then come, slut. Again."
Hank gritted his teeth and squeezed his ass in retaliation, about as much movement as he could manage at that point. It only served to make Bill moan in pleasure and thrust harder into the grey-haired man's trembling ass.
"Oh, yeah, that's the way, Hank," Bill said. "Looks like you're good for something after all?" He punctuated his insult with another brutal thrust, and Hank's well-muscled body practically collapsed onto the desk as Bill's cock struck his prostate head on. He let out a hoarse, helpless sob, a guttural sound ripped out of his throat.
"Just imagine what Hope would think if she saw this," Bill sneered. "Her precious old dad, stuffed full of cock and keening against a desk like a ten-cent whore."
"L-leave Hope out of this," Hank sobbed desperately. "P-please, she doesn't n-n-need to know about this."
Bill let out a chuckle and fondled one of Hank's sizeable pectorals, feeling up the flawless skin and perked nipple. Hank let out another involuntary moan, his body instinctively trying to move away from the sensation only to be met by the hard press of the desk beneath him.
"You ordering me around again, Pym?" Bill asked derisively. "Even when I'm fucking your brains out, you're still the same arrogant little asshole you were 30 years ago."
"Oh, god," Hank cried out helplessly as Bill began increasing the speed of his thrusts. The older man's body jerked back and forth on the desk like a ragdoll, his muscled body limp and loose from too much pleasure and exhaustion.
"Remember," Bill whispered, "you're the one who came to me asking for help. You want my help, you entertain me for another two hours, got it?"
Hank shook his head. "N-no, the deal was 3 hours! It's already been 2!"
Bill shrugged lightly. "And what's that matter to a worthless cockslut like you? I swear to god, I should've tossed you out the moment I saw you, but unlike some people, I'm actually capable of mercy, aren't I, Hank?"
Hank burrowed his head into the desk and screamed until his throat seemed dead with exhaustion as he was forced through his 8th orgasm. His naked body flopped and writhed with pleasure, slight amounts of sweat and come flicking off his sculpted body as the old man jerked uncontrollably in Bill's grasp.
Carelessly, Bill flipped Hank around and took a moment to admire his handiwork. This man, usually so composed, had been utterly debauched. His hair was stained with come, as was his face and beard (and really, the rest of his body), and his well-sculpted, flawless abs and pectorals glistened with sweat. His cock wilted between his thickly muscled legs, and his face reddened as he saw Bill inspecting it with a wide grin.
Then, Bill grabbed Hank's shoulder and shoved him onto the couch. Hank went reluctantly but forced himself not to resist: this was for Hope, for Janet, for his family, who he had wronged too many times and couldn't afford to fail again.
Bill knelt down, shoved his face between Hank's legs, and began devouring his cock.
Hank let out another hoarse scream, one so loud it seemed to shake the walls a little. He sobbed and begged and cried, real tears dripping from his face from the intense overload of pleasure. Bill simply continued, sucking every last drop of come from the older man's hardening cock while Hank screamed his throat out above him. Finally, mercifully, Bill stopped, popping off of the old man's cock with a satisfied grin. Hank, for his part, tiredly collapsed onto the floor, his muscled, sculpted, glistening body barely moving from exhaustion.
"You must be kidding," Bill muttered, and shook his head. "You didn't even manage to get to 3 hours. I guess you must really not need my help."
"No, no!" Hank cried out desperately. "I do, I do. Please, Bill, give me another chance. I... I can come again, just give me a few minutes to recover."
Bill shook his head and tutted. "Even after all this, you still think you have any say in this?" He forced Hank against the wall, took his cock, and began stroking it until Hank had angled his face upward and let out another high-pitched, broken shriek. "I decide when you come and when you get a break, slut."

At some, somewhere along the five hour mark, Bill finally pulled out a video recorder and began filming. Hank was barely conscious at this point, and he had long since stopped protesting that three hours had passed and begging Bill to stop. Now, he only lay in silence, letting out involuntary sounds of pleasure only when Bill thrust his cock into his stretched, muscled ass or teased his sore nipples.
Grinning, Bill began recording as he thrust four fingers back into Hank's come-covered ass. The old man mumbled in protest and attempted half-heartedly to move away, but Bill quickly halted him, then punished this transgression by replacing his four fingers with an entire fist. Even with all the stretching Bill had so graciously performed, Hank's ass still tightened against his fist with surprising force. Hank actually yelled in pleasure, his muscled body flopping like a fish out of water again and again as Bill thrust his fist roughly in and out of the old man's ass.
"This little slut," Bill sneered to the camera, "thought he'd come here to get my help. My help, can you imagine? So, as is my responsibility, I decided to put the useless little slut in his place, here, being forcibly fist-fucked in a pool of his own come."
Hank groaned, perhaps half-aware he was being filmed, but he was simply too weak to even try to stop Bill. Instead, he attempted to shuffle away, though Bill obviously stopped him.
"And you know the funniest thing of all?" Bill posed rhetorically. "He actually thought he could make a deal. He lets me do whatever I want to him for three hours, and in exchange, I help him get his lab back." Bill laughed uproariously. "As if. I'll do whatever I want to this slut, and hey, if I'm feeling charitable? Maybe I will even offer a little advice on how to get the lab back."
Hank mumbled something inaudibly.
Bill slapped his ass, causing the older man's body to jolt slightly. "What was that, slut?"
"You promised," Hank said hazily. "We made a deal."
"You're the one who bent down in the first place," Bill sneered, referring to a time many hours ago that Hank had dropped his phone and bent down to retrieve it. "You have only yourself to blame for everything that's happening, you useless old slut."
Hank shook his head furiously. "Bill, I... Please, I need to find the lab. There's very little time left until the quantum fields shift and we lose Janet. Please, Bill, I'll give you anything. Hell, I-I'll fucking make a public apology video to you, completely naked, if that's what it takes!"
"Really now?" Bill said with a malicious grin. "Look at that, it looks like the great Hank Pym does have a heart."
Unfortunately, Bill was only interested in exploiting said heart. Hank Pym had screwed him over one too many times, and now? Now, it was Bill's turn.

If one were to plunge the depths of the internet, one might find a certain 7-minute long video. It was well-hidden simply because Bill didn't want it to be taken down, but with a bit of digging, anybody could soon become privy to what the genius Hank Pym looked like being fucked ruthlessly by a fucking machine, what the old man looked like covered in come and barely conscious, gritting out an apology with vibrators on both of his dusty nipples, sobbing and screaming most of the time. Once in a while, a hand would appear from the right edge and do something to the poor old man. It would jerk him off, force him to come all over himself again, or it would twist the dildo in his ass or increase the vibration level of the dildo until Hank was making nothing more than involuntary, guttural, incomprehensible groans.
Then, a voice off-camera would scold the old man and tell him to stick to the script. It would punish him by pushing the dildo further into him, or jerking off and coming all over his deliciously sculpted abs, or forcing him to come all over his muscled chest and wrinkled face. It took the old man those 7 minutes to say no more than 20 words.

"Dad, are you alright?" Hope asked worriedly as the old man limped out of the university.
Hank forced a wan smile. "Yeah, fine. Come on, let's go find the lab. I- Dr. Foster gave me a good idea."
"What did you guys talk about for so long?" Hope asked. "It's been almost 9 hours!"
"We were... catching up," Hank said eventually. "I'm sorry, Hope, forgive an old man's failing mind."
"It's fine, and your mind's just as good as it was in your prime," Hope scolded gently. She hated it when his father got down on himself, especially about his age and body.
"Th-thanks, Hope," Hank said quietly, but it was obvious he was hiding something. Hope respectfully, in accordance with his unspoken wishes, left the topic alone. But Scott wasn't so quick to stop investigating, and soon enough, he caught a large glop of white fluid still stuck on Hank's sweater vest. He grinned, sniffed the air, just to confirm that it was indeed come.
Apparently, the old slut had bargained with his own body to get Bill to help them. Scott's grin widened. He knew the old man would do anything, absolutely anything, to stop that information from getting to Hope. Even if that happened to mean becoming Scott's personal slut. Even if that meant getting bent down and fucked senseless at any time of the day, in public or at home, so long as Hope didn't find out.
Bill had used Hank quite skillfully, but Scott had much more time to find out what exactly made the man tick. What made him scream in pleasure or pain, come immediately or get his cock to soften.
Scott couldn't wait to explore.